


(This Is) The World We Live In

by sadreel-trash (mind_and_malady)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Concerned Castiel, M/M, Multi, Other, Post-Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 01:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/sadreel-trash
Summary: Castiel doesn’t understand how they went from that, from Lucifer and Gadreel’s bitter rage with each other, Sam’s resentment and resignation to them both, to this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Rego for reminding me that I wrote these things

Castiel is...worried. He’ll admit that to himself. Sam’s judgement has not always been the best, and though nothing has gone horribly wrong as of yet, that does not mean something  _ won’t _ go wrong.

Lucifer and Gadreel have a rather rich history of being dangerous and destructive. Despite Gadreel’s role in bringing down Metatron and his subsequent offer to go quietly along with whatever Castiel thought was the best way of handling him, Castiel is slightly dubious. He can’t help it, though he’d rather not mistrust Gadreel. Lucifer, however, is another story. He had shown up at the bunker not long after Dean had vanished, all rage and cold hatred and violence, and had turned on a dime to tenderness and respect as soon as he saw Sam.

There had been a brief squabble between the two angels - Gadreel trying to protect Sam, Lucifer trying to get to Sam. But Sam had just watched with weary disbelief. Castiel had made a move to intervene, and Sam had placed a hand on his arm, shaken his head, and indicated they should just sit down. He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when they stopped fighting with swords and started arguing, accusations and demands all wrought in bitter, harsh words.

Castiel had watched, disbelieving, as Sam just leaned back in his chair and tipped his head towards the ceiling. Castiel followed his gaze, but found nothing of interest.

“Sam, I don’t think -” he’d started to say, but Sam shook his head.

“They’re gonna have it out one way or another, Cas,” he’d said with a sigh. “And then it’ll be my turn. Just give them a little while, okay?”

Castiel remembered then that Sam had been the vessel for both of these angels, and probably had a better idea of what they were like than he himself did. So he had nodded, and they had waited.

Eventually, the angels found silence, both still glaring, still bitter, but their heads snapped to Sam as he stood up. “Are you done?” he asked flatly, arms crossed, tension tight in his shoulders.

Neither angel said anything, but eventually looked at each other, and nodded.

Sam leans his weight back against the table, and says nothing. He just watches them, eyes narrowed, critical. Lucifer and Gadreel simply stand there, uncertain of what they’re meant to do.

“Sam,” Castiel started, but Sam had shaken his head.

He looked between them again. “For a long time, I thought that if I ever had the chance, I would yell at you. Scream at you. But,” he paused, took a breath, “it won’t change anything. Nothing will change what you’ve done.”  _ To me. _

Sam looked so weary, physically worn down by the presence of the beings in front of him. He rubbed a hand over his face, and looked at them again. No longer critical, or judgemental. Just deadened and blank. “If you’re going to stay, make yourselves useful. Otherwise, just get the hell out of here.”

Castiel doesn’t understand how they went from that, from Lucifer and Gadreel’s bitter rage with each other, Sam’s resentment and resignation to them both, to  _ this. _

Sam is reading aloud to the angels. Lucifer is sitting on the floor between Sam’s legs, leaning against the seat of the couch, while Gadreel is sprawled out to take up the rest of the couch, his head on Sam’s thigh. Castiel makes a slight, startled noise when he sees Lucifer tip his head back and Gadreel lean in to share a kiss. There are bruises peeking out from under the collar of Lucifer’s shirt. Sam pauses his reading to watch, and his fingers glide through Gadreel’s hair, then Lucifer’s, with a small, fond smile on his face.

Castiel is tempted to rush over there and - he doesn’t know. Break them up, perhaps. Then Sam looks over at him, and meets his eyes, expression pleading.

_ Please _ , he hears, jolting slightly at the prayer.  _ Let them be happy. _

Sam looks away from him, and Castiel backs out of the doorway.

Even in the library he can hear the murmur of Sam’s voice as he reads, occasionally disturbed by a pause for silence or laughter. Castiel can’t remember the last time he heard Sam laugh like this, free and happy, untainted.

Dean is never going to forgive him for allowing this to continue, he knows that. He can ready a long list of excuses - having Lucifer around would make it easier to subdue him and the Mark, Gadreel was an ally and possessed knowledge much of Heaven had forgotten, both were capable of fighting hard and well, Lucifer was invested in dethroning Crowley and was possibly the only one who would be able to find Michael…

It wouldn’t be enough to convince him. But maybe enough to stay his hand, maybe for long enough to realize how  _ good _ this was for them. To see how happy Sam was. To see how much safer he was, with the Morningstar and the sentry from East of Eden this devoted to his existence.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a much longer story, between point A and point B here. But I don't think I'm equipped to write it. Someone else ought to give it a shot.


End file.
